


Common Tongue

by henriettahoney



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (so do i whoops), Adam Parrish Has No Chill, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Blow Jobs, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, POV Ronan Lynch, Ronan Lynch Has Feelings, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish in Love, ronan lynch has a beanie kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 04:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriettahoney/pseuds/henriettahoney
Summary: Rather than responding, Adam kisses him. His lips are cold, too, and Ronan gathers that he’s probably been outside tending to the animals. Which must be why, When Ronan’s hand comes up to unconsciously tangle itself into Adam’s mess of sandy hair, he’s met with fabric instead.Adam is wearing Ronan’s beanie.





	Common Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clawsnbeak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawsnbeak/gifts).

Ronan’s not even really awake, but he’s awake enough to gauge that it’s exponentially unfair that he’s not really awake. 

“What are you doing?” is all he manages, groggily, as Adam pushes a hand up under his shirt, ice-cold fingers gripping at his ribs. 

Rather than responding, Adam kisses him. His lips are cold, too, and Ronan gathers that he’s probably been outside tending to the animals. Which must be why, When Ronan’s hand comes up to unconsciously tangle itself into Adam’s mess of sandy hair, he’s met with fabric instead.

Adam is wearing Ronan’s beanie. 

Well, technically, he guesses, it  _ was  _ Adam’s once upon a time, adorned with the Harvard logo and all. But Ronan laid claim to it before Adam even graduated, and Adam admitted to buying it because he knew Ronan would steal it, so. Basically Ronan’s from the get-go, for all intents and purposes. 

Something hot and heavy thrums low in his stomach at the sight.

“Sorry,” Adam laughs breathily, reaching up to remove it. “Didn’t even think when I came back in.”

“Don’t,” Ronan protests, stilling Adam by loosely catching his wrist. “Leave it on.”

Adam raises a brow, and Ronan’s sure he sees the corner of his mouth twitch. The bastard. “This doin’ something for you?”

“It might be,” Ronan allows himself to admit, because fuck yes it is. He isn’t sure precisely  _ why  _ or  _ what _ , but it’s definitely doing  _ something _ . Before he has time to ponder it too deeply, he’s hauling Adam further up onto the bed, kicking the comforter down to free his legs and hooking one around Adam’s waist. Adam gasps into his mouth, quick and surprised, and he grins, teeth grazing Adam’s bottom lip. “What if it is?”

“If it is…” Adam’s breathing is already a little off, eyes already a little wild. Ronan loves everything about him, but he thinks one of his very favorite aspects may be how easy it is to get Adam going and how hard it is to get him to stop. “If it is, then do what you need to do.”

The heat inside Ronan flares. 

Slowly, he raises his fingers to Adam’s mouth, pressing against it gently, prompting him to open up. He does so without hesitation, brushing a kiss over the pads of Ronan’s fingertips and then slipping them inside, the hot slick of his tongue swirling over Ronan’s skin. “You want me to blow you?” he eventually pulls back to ask, still caressing Ronan’s side. 

“Do you  _ want _ to?” Ronan counters, just to be sure. His brain is only functioning at about half-speed, because, fuck, he wants  _ Adam’s  _ fingers in  _ his  _ mouth now. Or an hour ago. Or fucking yesterday.

“I’d love to,” Adam assents, bending to kiss his jaw, and then his neck, and then his collarbone. Ronan feels chills blooming in his wake and has to physically suppress a shudder. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Ronan tells him. Wants to also tell him that he smells like bergamot and woodsmoke and a little like earth and that Ronan thinks he might die, but holds off on that part. “God.” 

Adam smiles up at him, a little mischievous and a lot soft, and tugs at the band of his underwear. Ronan gets with the program and slips them off, now entirely naked save for the ever-present bands on his wrists.

“Already hard,” Adam muses, still fully dressed. “Making my job easy today, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says, without any heat. There’s a defined outline in Adam’s jeans, and he reaches out to palm at it, just because he can. “I’m not the only one, apparently.”

“No,” Adam says, tongue parting his lips, leaving them glistening. “No, you’re not. But we’ll get to that when I’m done. How do you want to do this?”

It isn’t often that Adam throws the ball into Ronan’s court, so if he has the opportunity, he’s going to run with it. “Maybe I wanna blow you, too.”

That knocks Adam down a notch. “Okay. At—like—at the same time? Okay. Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Ronan echoes. He’s doing a lot of ground coverage here, but it’s unusual that Adam sounds unsure of himself. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Adam repeats, a breath of a sigh escaping him as the heel of Ronan’s hand brushes his crotch again. 

It’s light work, coaxing Adam onto his side and out of his clothes—all but his shirt, because, “There’s no reason to take it off, Ro,” which Ronan guesses he can’t technically argue with, although he’d really love to watch the muscles in Adam’s chest restricting and relaxing as he forced in staggered breaths around Ronan’s cock, but. Well. If it’s enough of an issue in the act, he’ll say so.

Adam’s too busy otherwise distracting him to let him dwell on it, anyway. He never has liked to waste time, so it’s not a shock that he’s already got his hand wrapped loosely around Ronan, tongue already circling the head. 

Ronan makes a sound that he couldn’t say he was proud of if you asked and gets with the fucking program, except he figures if he can one-up Adam he may as well, so he swallows Adam down to the base, blinking back the tears that involuntarily spring to his eyes. 

So help him, Adam whines against his skin and pushes into it. Luckily for Ronan, he’s fairly seasoned at sucking dick, so he takes it as well as any man could, pressing his tongue flat to the bottom of his mouth to make more room. He doesn’t gag, and the breath Adam blows out his nose sounds impressed. Ronan would be smug if he could rearrange his features. 

He loves sucking Adam off—really, he does—but he learned fairly early on in their relationship that it isn’t quite enough to get Adam there every time. Not that he’s trying to get him  _ anywhere  _ yet; they’ve only just started. But he figures a little warm-up has never hurt anyone, so he slips his middle finger into his mouth along with Adam’s cock, slicking it up to an obscene degree with his spit and Adam’s pre-come, and then pulls it out only to line it up with Adam’s hole. 

Adam’s lips make a perfect  _ popping _ sound as he pulls off to utter a blissed-out, “God,  _ yeah _ ,” and then he sets back to his task, this time pressing down against Ronan’s hand rather than up into his mouth. 

It doesn’t take him too terribly long to get one finger in anymore. Adam’s tight as all hell, but he’s learned over the years exactly how to open up for Ronan, to exactly what degree Ronan needs his body to relax, and he’s gotten a second one worked in alongside the first in no time flat. 

Ronan casts his eyes as far over as he can get them because he wants to see Adam’s face, wants to make sure he isn’t hurting him, and,  _ fuck.  _ He almost forgot about the beanie. 

It shouldn’t be such a big deal, really. He doesn’t know why it  _ is.  _ But Adam’s winter-darkened waves curling up from beneath the burgundy knit is doing shameful things to his libido. He likes the look of the contrast against Adam’s perpetually tanned skin, his ever-present smattering of freckles. And when his grey-blue eyes flick up to lock on Ronan’s, he has to remind himself very sternly that it  _ is not time to come yet.  _

“What?” Adam breaks away to ask, breathless. “You okay?”

Ronan doesn’t leave his post long enough to speak. Just reaches down to stroke his thumb over the rim of the beanie, down to Adam’s cheekbone and over his earlobe, and Adam must understand because he gets right back to it. 

Ronan can’t stop watching him. 

He’s fucking into him harder with his fingers now, because he’s having a couple of control issues, if he’s being honest with himself, and also because the better Adam feels the pinker his cheeks and neck get, the pinker the skin disappearing into the V of his t-shirt. 

He doesn’t know if the issue is that the beanie is  _ his _ , or that it’s so  _ dark _ and Adam so  _ isn’t  _ (he doubts this option; Adam’s Harvard hoodies are the same shade and he still wears them all the time), or that guys who wear beanies are, in general, a  _ type _ , but whatever it is, his heart’s about to beat out of his chest watching Adam blow him in it. 

“Easy,” Adam chuckles, tilting his head to suck at the silky skin just behind Ronan’s balls. “You’re gonna wear yourself out.”

Ronan’s forearm is starting to cramp, but he can barely feel it. He can barely feel anything but the tsunami building between his hips, threatening to spill over as soon as Adam’s mouth is back on him. 

He pushes in harder and Adam’s eyes roll back. 

“Holy  _ shit _ , Ro.  _ Jesus _ . Right there.”

If his mouth were unoccupied, he’d tell Adam that, yeah, he  _ knows _ where his prostate is, doesn’t need to be told where to stop, but his mouth  _ is _ occupied, and also Adam is sucking him down again like he’s starving, so he settles for what he hopes sounds like a grunt and lets it go. 

They haven’t been at it for an incredibly long time, but if Adam’s close, Ronan isn’t going to deny him anything, so to hell with the pacing. He massages Adam’s prostate with his fingers, rubs at his perineum with his thumb, deep throats him until there are tears streaming down both his cheeks, and then Adam is coming, letting out a muffled cry, lips still vacuum-sealed around Ronan’s cock. 

When Ronan comes, about a quarter of a second later, he sees white. 

When he blinks it out of his vision, Adam’s sitting up, gently rubbing Ronan’s chest, a soft smile playing over his face. 

“So this is a thing I need to wear more often?” he asks, pointing to indicate his head. 

“Mmh. Yeah,” Ronan manages. And rolls onto his side. “Looks good. Everything looks good on you. Or, like. Off.”

“You’re delirious,” Adam tells him fondly, knuckles grazing his cheek. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Just had it,” Ronan says, which earns him a playful punch to the bicep before Adam’s rolling off the bed and reclaiming his discarded underwear from the floor. 

“I’ll be back with some bacon and waffles in twenty minutes. Then maybe we’ll talk about round two.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Michelle, one of the absolute loves of my life, and inspired by Gigia, another of the absolute loves of my life, with [this incredible Adam art](https://shamanda-lie.tumblr.com/post/188480625382/the-raven-cycles-character-drawn-in-my), because, come ON. Dick. Sucking. Lips. 
> 
> (I know it's short, but just basically think of it as a really drawn out headcanon, because that's pretty much what it is.)


End file.
